


Dream

by zsomeone



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-07
Updated: 2009-06-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:43:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zsomeone/pseuds/zsomeone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skwisgaar is trapped in a dream, and it ain’t a happy one.<br/>Warnings: Character death, but it’s all just a dream. Also, contains somewhat disturbing Skwisgaar art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream

Skwisgaar knew he ws dreaming, but he couldn’t wake up. He knew this dream very well, he had been here so many times before. An endless loop of hell, always varying but never enough, the ending always and forever the same.  
He was in the snow, somewhere, blinding white everything, swirling prison of ice. He wasn’t cold even although he had no coat (such is the power of dreams), but he knew that it was freezing out here. He had to find the others even though it was too late, they would be dead like they were every time before. They were not immune to this strange cold, they would be out there somewhere, naked statues of ice and bone, waiting for him to find them, he has to find them. He doesn’t know why they’re always naked, doesn’t understand.  
He is the fastest guitarist alive, yet he is never fast enough, could never be fast enough. Where would they be this time? Locations changed, ever a hunt. Why couldn’t he just wake up, why did he have to go through this hell, time after time?

Moving through white, he searched the blinding snow, seeking. It never ended before he found them all, there was no choice, none. Hunt, or never wake up again, be alone in the snow forever. Voices in the wind called to him, but they were faceless ghosts, whispering things he refused to hear. Ignore them and they stop, all falls quiet in this tomb.  
He searched, knowing it was hopeless, too late, knowing he would have to face their grimacing corpses yet again. Some day he wouldn’t be able to find them anymore, and then the white silence would simply swallow him.  
Finally, he saw a shape just ahead. Who, oh fucks, who? The order was the only thing that ever changed here.

He struggled closer through the drifts, it was the butler. Naked in the snow and frozen stiff, dead as they are always dead, hard marble with eyes of ice. Skwisgaar knew that if he dared touch him, dared turn him over, his hands would be bound behind him with his own red tie. Why?  
And whys was the butler the only employee he ever found here? The answers didn’t exist in this place, never for him. There was nothing to be done here, nothing ever to be done. Time was running out, time didn’t exist, and yet it raged past, unforgiving. Leaving the butler, he tried to run, struggling, stumbling through the drifts. Please makes it maybe not too lates. This time?

He tripped over him, hidden by the snow, falling face first into the powder. Choking, suffocating, fighting his way back to his feet. Murderface, almost completely buried, still fighting even in death. Arms over his face. Fucks, everything was the same, always the same, again. I’s sorry Murderface, I don’t wants even yous to be dead. It was a little easier when he couldn’t see their faces, their dying blame, his shame.  
Wakes up, wakes de fucks up! No good, that never works, nothing ever works. All there was, white and silence, cold and death. Go on, finds dem all, the only way out of this shit. It wasn’t enough to be lost and alone, he had to see them all dead, face them all.

Who would be next? That always changed, but it was always too late, no matter who it was. The snow had stolen their breath, leaving only ice. There was no peace in this death, no acceptance. Their faces showed their fight, preserved forever in this frozen tomb.  
Only he was immune, for reasons he couldn’t reach. And with every body, with every find, another little part of him died, frozen into the nothing of forever. How many more times, how many more dreams, eventually there would be nothing left of him, in him, nothing at all.  
No choices, if he didn’t hurry he’d be digging them up, naked, stiff, and dead.  
And if he was too slow, couldn’t find them? Don’ts think.

Trying to hurry, wanting just to be done, a spot of color ahead. He had found Pickles. Curled in a tight ball at the base of a tree, bright hair showing where the cold fingers of the drifts hadn’t yet reached. Trees were new, or were they? Maybe he just missed them in the white, snow covered, they were whiteness as well. He went to Pickles, get this over with, move on. Blank white eyes, accusing. Fucks Pickle, I’s sorry. Somehow it was his fault, always his fault, and they all died for it. He didn’t know why, only that he was to blame. They had called Toki an angel of death, but they didn’t know, they didn’t know. Not until this place, where they all died again and again, hating him, accusing him. Their hate was his burden to keep.  
Only two left now, and then he could wake up, finally wake up.  
Someday he would never wake up.

Find them, find them faster. Fucks, why? It was hopeless, always hopeless. The snow under his feet held no answers. Feet? He’d lost his shoes, this was new, different. Could it mean anything? Probably only that he was starting to die here, finally, as he has always knew he someday would. Soon the cold would come inside, and then immune no more, he would freeze like the others. And then, once with them, they would hate him, blame him for their deaths, and he would be lost and alone forever.  
Only two left, the hardest two, the ones he felt the closest to. He hated so much to see them frozen, lifeless and cold. Forced to look, forced to see. But every time, every damn time...  
Get it over with.

Nathan. Was that Nathan? His hair, or a merely a shadow on the blinding whiteness? It was Nathan, it would always be Nathan. Quieted forever, frozen with a snarl on his face, fighting the death that had already won. Fucks Nathan, why? His staring eyes were blind white ice, colorless now.  
Nearly over now, almost through. He felt no relief, the price was beyond his ability to pay, killing him slowly. Nathans, I’s so sorry. I don’ts know what I did, why you hates me. I’s sorry.  
Skwisgaar stood again, only one left, where was Toki? Please Toki, don’t leaves me out here all alones....  
Maybe don’ts be dead?

He searched, finding nothing. It had never taken this long before, where was Toki? Was it possible that he wasn’t even here? But if he’d found them all, why wasn’t he awake? Toki must be here somewhere, fucks Toki, where are you?  
He forged ahead, searching, staggering a little now from the sustained effort of fighting the snow. There was nothing. You know he’s dead, try not to care, don’t care so much....  
No, don’ts care. Stupid little dildos, can’ts even play.  
Yes he can, oh yes he can, I’s sorries Toki, I’s so sorries! Where are you?

Finally, another shape. Skwisgaar struggled forward. It had to be him, didn’t it?  
Toki.  
Fucks, just like the others, always just like the others.  
And then he realized that the pale eyes weren’t really colorless, not yet. Still alive, in a small hollow, but clearly not for long.  
Oh shits, Skwisgaar dropped to his knees beside him, not knowing what to do. This had never happened to him before. Cautiously he touched him, somehow fearing that this light contact would do what even the cold had yet not.  
The voices in the winds were back again, whispering in his ears, “kill him.”  
The price of his exit, the price of his peace. The only way to wake up.  
No.

“Toki? Oh fucks Toki, can you hears me?”  
Skwisgaar pulled him up, pulled him against his body, trying to share what little warmth he could generate, but it seemed he none at all. Toki was limp in his arms, cold, so cold, but not yet ice.  
Skwisgaar stripped off his shirt, it was nothing, but it was all he had. Forcing it onto Toki’s naked form, he pulled him close again. He knew his jeans would never fit, he didn’t even try.

Comes on Toki, don’t dies dis time. You’s the only one who mights understands me, if I ever was to dare tells anyone my story. Don’t die, don’t die, fucks I’s sorry, I doesn’t know how to be anything but what I ams, you gots to believe that. You’s not dildos, not realies.  
Fucks, I finds him, why can’t I’s wakes up now? That’s how it’s supposed to work!  
The wind’s voice, Toki’s voice, yet the still form in his arms did not speak it, “Skwisgaar, just kills me, kills me and you can go home.”

“No!”  
Everything goes dark, his sight is gone, the price of his disobedience.  
Toki must die.  
Screaming against the wind, he raises his hand to his face, and sees. Sees his own face, eyes white like the dead, it has come down to this.  
The cold is in his hands now, he can no longer even tell if Toki is still alive. He thinks not, but how can he bear to leave him, take that chance?  
But how can he possibly ever save him, blind, when there’s nothing, and the cold goes on forever?  
“Toki? I’s so sorries. I don’t hates you, not reallies. I should have tells you that, I’s sorries.”  
He stands.

  
_Come into my arms_  
_Leap into my mind_  
_I clothe the naked_  
_Give eyes to the blind_

There is nothing to see, he closes his hands, closes his eyes. This is where it always ends, he found them all, he’s supposed to wake up now. Why isn’t he wake?  
Then the iron hands of ice grab him, and the cold comes inside. So cold, so cold, they say freezing isn’t so bad.  
They lie.  
He screams, thrashing helplessly, the time of death has come for him in the land of snow, finally.  
Pulled back, pulled down, sinking into the suffocating powder, so cold....

“Skwisgaar! Wakes up!”  
He was trapped between now and forever, finally lost to the dream. Hands closed, eyes closed, he struggled against the forces holding him, breaking him. He isn’t strong enough. And still he screams, even as the cold chokes him, pulling him down, relentless.  
Don’t open your eyes. (I don’ts have eyes.)  
So cold, everything is cold. But-  
Different. Still wrapped in the dream, still tight in it’s grip, wrapped in the arms-

Arms? The whirling panic in his mind subsides slowly. Hands still closed, afraid to see.  
These arms are not ice.  
He finally hears the soft words that have been there all along,  
“...okays, it’s just a dream, I’s got you, it’s okays...”  
Awake? Or just a new dimension of hell, in this unending horror? Don’t look yet, don’ts look.  
“Toki?”  
“You was screaming and you wouldn’t wakes up! I just tries to help!”  
“Not... nots still a dream?”  
But why was he still so cold? Don’t look, don’t look.  
He is only now aware that he has been crying.

Toki pulls up the blanket that he has thrown off in his struggles, wrapping it around him, wrapping his arms around him.  
He can’t shake the dream, still can’t look. If he as eyes, if he even has eyes, it’s still way too real. And Toki, regular old Toki, or a dead creature that followed him back across? He is shaking, still shaking.  
“Skwisgaar, looks at me.”  
Slowly, he opens his eyes. It’s pretty dark, but he can see again. And Toki is.... only Toki, studying him with a worried expression.  
It’s really over.

Tell him. Tell him everything you wanted to say, out on the snow. But it’s so hard. He’s never spoken like that outside of a dream, doesn’t know if he even can, but has to try.  
‘Toki? I has something I needs to tell yous.”  
“What is it?”  
Say it, just say it, it’s only words. Too hard, the words refuse to form, Toki is waiting. “Just...  
You is dlidos.”  
He hears Toki’s soft chuckle. It’s okay, he understands.


End file.
